


Platonically

by illfoandillfie



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Aromantic!Reader - Freeform, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Morning Sex, nothing especially kinky in the smut, qpr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25415281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illfoandillfie/pseuds/illfoandillfie
Summary: Ben is your best friend. After you tell him you're aromantic he suggests a QPR could be the answer you were looking for.
Relationships: Ben Hardy/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So... I'm aromantic. 
> 
> Originally I wanted to get this out to celebrate pride month but stuff happens and plans change. I knew I wouldn't finish it by the end of the month but then I found out that the third saturday of July is QPR day and i thought that would be a fitting time to post. I am a couple of days late but close enough is good enough. 
> 
> Anyway, I had this idea a little while ago and haven't been able to shake it recently. Most just wish fulfillment on my part but I really wanted to write something with a character like me. 
> 
> I think I've explained all the terms I used in there but if something isn't clear I'm happy to explain further or answer any questions you have.

You’d never been one to believe in fate but, looking back, it seemed like the moment you met Ben held all the significance of destiny. That day you’d accompanied your friend to the local soccer field so you could snag a ride home with her boyfriend rather than  have to catch the bus. It was  definitely not your usual scene. You didn’t even really like her boyfriend and you weren’t so keen on watching him run around a field just to avoid paying the bus fare. But she’d insisted, probably so she wouldn’t have to wait for him alone, though she barely paid you any attention from the moment you reached the sidelines. It wasn’t so bad at first. They were playing shirts versus skins so there was at least something to look at, though not enough of them were your type to keep you fully enthralled. After nearly ten minutes of waiting for the end of whatever pickup game he and his friends were involved in you were tempted to just leave and get your own way home, going so far as to look up bus timetables on your phone, trying to do the math and work out which option would get you home fastest. You only looked up when a shadow stopped in front of you and your friend sprang to her feet. She threw her arms around her boyfriend, calling him some cutesy nickname that made you want to roll your eyes. A second shadow had followed the first and you’d found yourself looking up at a blonde haired, green eyed, chiselled torsoed hunk of a man. One of the attractive ones, especially up close. He glanced at the sickeningly sweet couple, now whispering with their foreheads pressed together, and crinkled his nose in what you could only imagine was discomfort. You forced your eyes away from the drop of sweat running down the middle of his chest, and held out your hand to introduce yourself since no one else was going to, feeling more than a little warm as he shook it and told you his name was Ben. Nearly three years later and you still considered it one of the best things that had happened to you. Even after the PDA loving couple had fallen apart, even when your friendship with her hit the rocks, even after you hadn’t seen either of them for months, Ben was there. Your best friend.

You found him sitting on the kitchen bench, leaning out the window slightly, cigarette smoke curling up into the inky night sky.   
“What’re you doing up?” you asked quietly, glancing at the doorway as you pulled your duvet tighter around you and shuffled over to him. You didn’t want to wake any of the other friends who had crashed the night, most of them stretched out over couches or on piles of blankets on the floor. The clock on the oven flashed midnight but you knew it was at least a few hours later. It’d been flashing midnight ever since the power outage three nights previous because neither you nor your roommate could remember how to reset it.   
“Couldn’t sleep, needed to think.” He was topless, like an idiot, shivering slightly in the cool night air. You took pity on him and pulled yourself onto the counter, throwing one end of the blanket around him and cuddling close to his side. He took a final drag and stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray you’d bought just for him.   
“And how’s the thinking going for you?”   
“Can I admit something?” he asked slowly, like he was picking his words carefully. It worried you a little, but you nodded anyway. The quiet hours of the early morning were made for sharing secrets.    
When he spoke, it was a complete contrast to his previous sentence, barely any room for breath between each word, “I’ve got a bit of a crush on you.”    
Your heart sank into your stomach and you froze up.    
He waited a little, the silence pressing in on you from every side but he was too impatient to wait long, “Sorry. I know that’s kind of out of nowhere and I get it if you don’t want anything to happen, I certainly don’t want this to ruin our friendship, but I figured I might as well shoot my shot y’know.”   
You had to take a steadying breath before you could speak but hey, Ben had admitted something and you supposed it was your turn to do the same, “It’s complicated. Umm…I don’t…It’s not that I don’t feel the same it’s that I can’t. Or I don’t think I can anyway, it’s hard to know for sure but it’s never happened with anyone else and it’s not happened with you either.” You could feel yourself your rambling, tried to stop, but you’d never had to explain it to anyone else before. One or two people online where you had the luxury of time to carefully word your replies, but no one you actually knew, no one who’s opinion you cared about.    
“Wait, slow down,” it wasn’t the first time Ben had seen you nervously babble about something. He shifted on the counter, put extra space between you but only so he could see you properly, “what do you mean you can’t?”   
It was a big breath moment. A big inhale before you said the thing you’d never said out loud to anyone before.    
“I’m aromantic,” you were glad it was dark because it made it easier to say when you couldn’t fully see how he was looking at you, “I don’t feel romantic attraction. I mean, I know you’re attractive, physically, but romance stuff just isn’t really a factor for me.”   
“Oh.”   
Oh? What does oh mean? Oh, that sucks? Oh, don’t be daft? Oh, I’m done with you?   
“That’s not what I was expecting. Um, do you mind explaining it a bit more? I haven’t met anyone who’s a-aromantic – am I saying that right?”   
“Perfectly,” you smiled, relaxing more now that the initial shock was wearing off, “Well, like I said, I don’t feel romantic attraction. It’s like… you know Todd on _Bojack_ _Horseman_? How he’s asexual? It’s like that except with romance.”   
“But you’ve dated before,”   
“Yeah. Some of them were before I realised I was aro and some were because I wanted to sleep with them but didn’t really know how to keep doing that without dating them. Less guys are into the whole friends with benefits thing than you might expect, or at least in my experience. But I haven’t dated anyone in...well, a while.”   
“Do you mind if I ask more questions? I don’t want to put you on the spot,” you could see he was nervous but equally interested, determined to understand. It wasn’t the first time you’d told each other secrets but it definitely felt different than anything else you’d shared.   
“Go ahead, I don’t mind. It actually feels kind of nice to be able to talk openly about it.”   
He spoke slowly again, trying to phrase things right which just made you love him more. But you should have known that’s how he’d be. He’d always been considerate and caring and unafraid of admitting he didn’t know something.    
“You said it’s hard to be sure?”   
“Yeah it’s not easy. I question whether I’m just insane at least once a week. Because you’re trying to work out an absence of something. I read a thing another aro person put online where they talked about the difference between working out they were gay and working out they were aro and they said it was easier to figure out they were gay because there was a definite physical attraction to other men, something tangible, something they could feel. But working out if you’re aro doesn’t come with the same certainty. Most of the time you mention it you get told you just haven’t met the right person yet and sometimes you can’t help but wonder if it’s true. Maybe I could feel whatever it is I’m meant to feel, if they were the right someone. But so far it hasn’t happened and I don’t really think it ever will.”   
“So how did you figure it out?” Ben hopped off the counter and grabbed the jug of water from the fridge, “d’you want a drink?”   
“Yes, thanks,”   
He nodded and started busying about pulling out cups but he gestured for you to continue.   
“I never had a crush. I remember being twelve and the other girls in my class would talk about which boys they liked and mum would tell me stories about the crushes she had when she was that age but I didn’t feel the same thing for anyone. But I thought I should so I faked it. I picked out a boy from my class, Zach M, and decided I liked him and told myself, and just about anyone who’d listen, that he was my crush. But there wasn’t anything to it, I could have pulled a name out of a hat and done the exact same thing. And then in highschool everyone else seemed so interested in dating and meeting boys at school dances and I just wasn’t. Even when I actually started dating….nothing. I knew I was supposed to feel things, all the magazines talked about butterflies and getting nervous around your crush. At one point I thought I might be gay but even with girls I didn’t feel anything I was meant to. I thought there was something wrong with me for so long. Like, years. I thought something was broken in me like I’d been damaged somehow, dropped on my head as a baby or something. And then I was online and I saw someone posting about being aro and I googled it and so much of it fit me. The making up crushes, the not playing at weddings as a kid, the lack of interest in seeking dates. It took a little while before I accepted it because it didn’t really stop the broken feeling but I found myself doing google searches for things like _am I_ _aromantic_ hoping to find a quiz or something that could give me a definite answer and I thought well maybe this is a sign.”   
Ben nodded and handed over your glass. He was processing everything you’d said, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. You took a sip and let him think.    
“You like sex though, right?”   
“Yes Ben, I do,” you laughed because it’s really the only question you could have predicted, “Aromantic and asexual are different things that sometimes overlap. Some people identify as aroace, some as one or the other. I’m just aromantic.”   
“Okay, that makes sense.”    
You took another drink as you waited to see if he had more questions but he seemed to be finished. He glanced at the clock and yawned as if he’d only just realised how late it was.   
“We should go to bed,” you said, sliding off the bench, tugging your duvet back around you.   
“Yeah. Am I the first person you’ve told?”   
“In real life, yes,”   
He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed, “I’m glad you felt you could share that with me and I’m sorry for hitting on you.”   
“It’s all good Benny, sorry I can’t reciprocate,”    
He shook his head as he let you go, “Don’t be daft. But, if you ever want a hookup that would possibly be a mistake but would definitely be very enjoyable, you’ve got my number.”   
You laughed as you headed back to your room but sleep didn’t come easy once you’re there. Not because you regretted telling Ben but because what you didn’t say, and wished you had, was that you love him. More than any other person in your life. Not in a romantic way but as your best friend. And if you had to spend your life with anyone you’d choose him every day of the week. 

There’d been a little worry when you woke. The cold light of day didn’t make it seem like a mistake exactly, but you wondered if you should have waited until both of you were more awake before you mentioned it. But that worry evaporated the moment you saw Ben, leaning against the kitchen bench as he read something on his phone. He wished you a good morning as if nothing had changed, asked if you wanted him to chuck a couple bits of bread into the toaster after his were done. You thanked him, handed him the butter he’d left in the fridge as you got out the milk for your morning coffee. A dance you’d done a hundred times before, moving around each other seamlessly. It was only when he’d slid his plate to the other side of the bench to let you get into the toaster that you mentioned it, glancing behind you to make sure none of the others were about to interrupt.    
“About last night, what we talked about,”   
“Don’ wo’ry,” he said despite the half chewed mouthful of toast, swallowing it and a gulp of coffee before he continued, “I promise I’m not going to tell anyone.”   
“Okay, cool. I knew you wouldn’t but y’know, it’s a whole thing,”   
“Yeah, I get it, you’re fine. And if you ever want to talk about it or if you do decide to tell anyone else and would like some moral support or whatever, just let me know.”   
“I’ll keep that in mind,”   
He smiled and turned his attention back to his phone and you resisted the urge to leap across the table to hug him, instead contenting yourself with walking around it. He was unsurprised by the sudden affection and leant into you, never taking his eyes off his phone. It was only then you realised he might not want that affection if you can’t feel the same as him.    
“Sorry,” you say as you let him go, stepping back toward the toaster, “I shouldn’t do that,”   
“Y/N, it’s fine. It’s a tiny crush, I’ll be over you within the week and I’m not in the habit of chasing girls who’re unavailable.”   
You sighed, relieved, and let Ben focus on whatever he was reading as you set about making your breakfast.

****

“Hey, quick question,” Ben said suddenly. He was upside down on his couch, head hanging close to the floor, his legs hooked over the back of it.   
“Uhh,” his tone distracted you from your final lap in Mario Kart, made you drive over a banana peel and spin out off a cliff. The last time you heard him sound like that had been a month previous when he’d asked you out, but this time it was midday and you weren’t sure you wanted to hear another confession, “Fuck, how are you winning even upside down?”   
“I’m just that good,” he poked his tongue out as he paused the game and righted himself, nearly taking you out with his feet, “No, but seriously, can I ask you something,”   
“Sure,”   
“Have you ever been in a QPR?”   
“QPR, like Queerplatonic Relationship? No, why? And how do you know about QPRs anyway?”   
He gave a half shrug, “I wanted to understand you better so I was doing some research about aromanticism and it popped up,”   
“I love you,”   
“Aww samsies,”   
“You really went and read up on it all?”   
“Of course. Y/N, you’re my best mate and I don’t want to do or say anything that might hurt you, so I figured I should at least try to understand it. Anyway,”   
“Right, go on,”   
“Would you be open to a QPR? Specifically with me?”   
“With you? What’s brought all this on?”   
“Nothing really, I was reading and, hang on, let me get the quote up. I saved it,”    
You couldn’t help but laugh a little as Ben reached for his phone and immediately started scrolling through until he found what he was after. But it was touching too. If Ben was prepared with quotes and research to back up his argument then it was something he cared about.    
“Okay got it, _QPR stands for_ _queerplatonic_ _relationship and is a committed relationship based in platonic love. It can have other elements such as sensual, sexual, or even romantic, but the core, primary aspect is platonic_. I read a couple different definitions but that’s the one that made it click, y’know. And then I was thinking about you and me and, I don’t know, it just seems to fit. Like, I know I’m not aromantic and obviously if you’re not cool with it that’s fine but I think we’re kind of in that general area already, y’know? Like you literally just said you loved me and it was so normal I didn’t even have to think about it. I think we’d make great partners, even without the romantic stuff. I mean, we’d have to discuss it and like figure out how it would work and our boundaries and stuff but just generally speaking I think we could make it work, if you’re open to it.”   
“Maybe. Let me think it over?”   
“Of course, yeah.”

So, think about it you did. For the rest of the day you thought of little else and that night you decided to write down your jumbled thoughts in the hopes it would help you straighten them out. Sitting cross legged in bed, a notebook balanced on your knee, your pen bounced against the paper until you came up with another pro or con to write down. Mostly pros. You hadn’t known Ben your whole life but sometimes it felt like you had with how close you were. He was the person you turned to when you needed advice or a shoulder to cry on, he was the person you celebrated all your achievements with first and the person you shared your secrets with. All of them now. You trusted him more than anyone and his recent behaviour, his willingness to learn and understand, was just another sign you’d made the right call. He had seen you giddy with happiness when your niece was born, and grief stricken when your family cat died. He’d held your hair back as you’d thrown up after too wild a night, rushed you to the doctor when you’d tripped over and knocked your head on the coffee table, popped bottles of champagne with you to celebrate your new job. He was a good man and a better friend. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t talked about living together before, last time your lease ended you’d considered it but he’d been getting kind of serious with someone and you figured he’d probably want to live with her sooner than later. After they split  up you’d kind of wished you’d not been so quick to turn him down. Plus, if you were looking at it from a purely selfish perspective, it was a sure-fire way to stop  well meaning friends from asking when you were going to find man or attempting to set you up. Half of them probably thought something was up between you anyway. But was that what you wanted them to think? Was that what Ben wanted them to think? Maybe he would. He hadn’t mentioned his crush since that first night but you’d caught him looking at you once or twice and wondered if he’d really been able to shake it the way he’d assured you he would. You sighed and added it to the much shorter con list. How would he manage if he did have feelings for you? If you started living together or potentially even sleeping together. Fuck there was a lot to consider. You tore the page out of the notebook and started a second list.  _ Things We Need To Discuss First _ . Number one, the crush. Number two, exclusivity. Number 3, sex. What actions do you each consider romantic and are any of them too far for you? What sort of futures do you both want and how would that effect your relationship? What would you tell outsiders who asked? You looked at the two lists, mulling over what you’d written down and whether you’d missed anything. It called for a cup of tea and one of the brownies you’d made in a baking frenzy after you’d got home from Ben’s. As you riffled through the fridge for the half empty baking pan covered in cling wrap you thought about what you imagined a QPR would look like. You’d read blog posts from other a-spec people talking about their relationships and how they made them work but there didn’t seem to be any set design to them. It all came down to preferences. The more you thought about the situation, the more you had to figure out. When you got back to your room, settled yourself back in your original spot, you ripped the second list from your book and began a third.  _ Want, Will, Wont _ . The hardest of the three lists to fill in. You had to sort out what you would ideally want from the partnership from what you were willing to do if it was something Ben wanted from what would definitely be off the table. The last column was shorter than you expected, most of the actions on it too traditionally romantic for you to be comfortable with. But finally, nothing but a cold mouthful of tea at the bottom of your cup and a few brownie crumbs left, you felt like you’d covered everything you could. You felt prepared to have the conversation with Ben.

****

“Jesus, I thought I was doing well with my one page of shitty notes I scrawled down at about midnight and then you walk in here,” Ben indicated the three separate pages you’d pulled out and spread in front of you at his dining table. It was the cleanest surface in the house, mostly only used for pot luck dinners with the rest of your friends.   
“I was an anxious kid, always preferred to be over prepared than under.”   
“That explains so much,”   
“Doesn’t it just. Do you want more time? We can talk about this another day?” The page of notes he’d produced, messily written and slightly crumpled, had been enough to make you happy, enough proof that he was serious about the potential situation, but if he wasn’t satisfied with it you could wait a little longer.    
Ben shook his head, “I wanna know what’s on all that paper you’ve got.”   
“Where should I start? I’ve never had this sort of talk before.”   
“Let’s start with coffee. There’s an apple teacake in the fridge if you want to grab it out.”   
“Thought you were eating healthy getting into shape for your next movie,”   
“There’s apple in it, it counts. And I’m in good enough shape thank you very much,”   
You giggled as you pulled out the shop bought cake and cut a slice for each of you as Ben brought two steaming mugs to the table.   
“Okay, now what?” you asked, cradling the mug between your palms.   
“I thought you’d have come up with a good opener by now,”   
“Okay, alright, well…”   
Ben watched you glance down at your notes, noted the way you pulled your lip between your teeth as you considered where to begin, “Why don’t you tell me what your three lists are,”   
“Yeah okay. Umm, so I started with this one, a pros and cons list.”   
“That’s a lot of Pros you’ve got,”   
“Yeah. You were right, I think. We do already have such a tight connection so it feels like if we want to do this we could make it work. But, and this leads me to list two, there is… stuff we have to consider first and figure out where we both stand on it.”   
“Like?”   
“Do you still have a crush on me?”   
“You don’t mess around do you?”   
“Well there’s no point having a whole fucking discussion only for this to be the main roadblock. May as well get it out there and deal with it.”   
Ben let out a heavy breath, “Fine, okay. Yes, I still have a tiny bit of a crush on you. Weak knees, butterflies, excessive sweating, the lot of it. Maybe not so tiny afterall.”   
“Excessive sweating? Is that really a…symptom?”   
Ben laughed, “Sometimes, yeah.”   
“And if we were in a queerplatonic relationship you don’t think that would get in the way?”   
“No.”   
“How can you be so certain? Wouldn’t you be upset that I can’t reciprocate your feelings?”   
Ben shook his head, “I loved you as a friend well before I liked you as a potential girlfriend. And mostly I just want to see you happy, to make you happy, so I’m not going to try and force something that won’t work. Even if you weren’t aromantic I wouldn’t have said anything more about it.” He paused for a moment, making _his I’m trying to think of the right words_ face, “I can’t say with absolute certainty that my feelings won’t turn into something more than a crush. But that’s my problem and I wouldn’t make it yours. I’d talk to you about it so we could decide whether our situation needed to change but I wouldn’t blame you or try to change how you felt.”    
“That is reassuring.”   
“I’m on a roll, hit me with something else, another tricky one”   
“Ummmm,” you glanced down at your list, “Sex,”    
“As in, you and me?”   
“Yeah.”   
“You want that?”   
“I mean, I already explained that I’m not ace and that I do in fact enjoy sex when it’s not totally wrapped up in romance. So, maybe? Might be a bit weird though, what d’you think?”   
“I think I kindawanna shove everything off this table like they do in romcoms and give us a test run,”   
You couldn’t help but laugh as Ben’s cheeks tinged pink, “Hold your horses, tiger, there’s more to consider. I know it’s kind of a cliché but maybe sex wouldn’t be good for our friendship. And then that raises questions about exclusivity. Whether or not we decide sex works we need to decide whether we’d have the option to see other people.   
“Would we need to?”   
“Well I don’t think I would. What I’m mainly looking for in a relationship is emotional support, someone I can joke around and laugh with, and some forms of physical intimacy – specifically, um, sexual intimacy. Most of that I get from you already, even without making this an official thing, and if we add sex into it then I’m fucking sorted. But, if you don’t think us having sex is a good idea, or there are things you would seek from a romantic relationship that you couldn’t get in a platonic or queerplatonic one, you may want to date someone outside of this QPR. Or even if you just want to sleep with other people.”   
Ben considered it, “I think at this point it would be a no from me. I mean, I guess it depends on what you feel is too romantic for you, but part of the whole crush situation is not being interested in other people. Again, might change down the road but I can’t imagine it happening any time soon. Plus, I’m not sure how I’d even explain that to another chick, like, _don’t worry about her we’re just friends?_ ”   
You rolled your eyes.   
“What?”   
“Just friends.”   
“Yeah? We are friends, you said it yourself, so I’m not sure what the problem is.”   
“It’s the _just_. Just friends makes it sound like all relationships are in a hierarchy and romantic trumps platonic. But romantic relationships are not automatically better. Friendships, completely one hundred percent platonic friendships, can be just as strong and have just as deep a connection as romantic relationships. Sometimes more so. My connection with you is deeper than any other relationship I’ve had. And if you do date someone else that isn’t going to lessen what we mean to each other. You’d still be my friend and, unless you’re dating a hideously insecure woman who won’t let you be friends with other women, I’d still be yours.”   
“You would be. So isn’t that just semantics?”   
“Maybe, but you say you’re just friends or more than friends and people automatically make assumptions about romance and sex being involved. And if I can’t do romance then that’s basically saying I will always be put last, always be a _just_ instead of part of a full connection. Obviously if you did start dating someone, it would change things a bit, but I would hope that our core platonic friendship would remain the same.”   
“Of course it would.”   
“Good.”   
“I didn’t realise how it might sound so someone who doesn’t experience romantic attraction,”   
“I’m not blaming you Ben. I’m just pointing it out because it’s everywhere and it irritates me and once you’ve noticed it it’s kind of hard to un-notice it.”   
Ben nodded, silent, but reached out and lay his hand over yours, stroking his thumb along your wrist.   
You sighed, “This is what I meant when I said I didn't know where to start. You pick at one thread and you end up with twelve more to deal with. And then add on the differences in how we think about and perceive relationships and the language around them and-”   
“Hey, I think we’re doing pretty well so far. Especially considering I’m learning a lot of this as I go.” Ben left his hand on yours for a moment longer, the constant motion of his thumb calming, before pulling it back, “So, exclusivity.”   
“Right, that. What do you think?”   
“I think we should say we’re exclusive and figure out how that would work and then later, if either of us isn’t getting what we need from this, we can talk about how other people might fit in.”   
“Okay, makes sense.”

“What’s next on your list?”   
“Well, if we’re going to be exclusive then we have to make a couple of decisions about what that would look like from the outside. Not many people know what QPRs are so are we okay with people assuming we’re boyfriend and girlfriend? I’m thinking like our friends and families as well as the general public who might see photos of us together. And if we are okay with that, are we going to use those terms to refer to each other or something less defined like partner or umm lover I guess but actually no, I hate that and I’m ruling it out. Datemate maybe?”   
Ben chuckled as you scrunched up your nose and shook your head, “I have no problems being referred to as your boyfriend but if you think the romantic connotations are too much I can do datemate. That’s pretty cute. Or partner if that’s better for you.”   
“Generally speaking, I don’t hate the whole boyfriend girlfriend thing. It means people won’t ask too many questions so we don’t have to explain this until we’re comfortable with it or to anyone we don’t want to. I’m not out as aro to anyone else and I don’t want to have to out myself every time someone mistakenly calls me your girlfriend. Especially not around my family. Plus, and this is a little selfish on my part, it’d stop everyone from asking when I’m going to find a boyfriend. Though, I guess partner would work for that too.”   
“God that gets old fast and I’m al-allo-romantic. Must drive you mad.”   
You smiled as Ben stumbled over the new word, one he must have picked up in his research, “Yeah it’s pretty annoying.”   
“Well how about if people use boyfriend girlfriend in conversations with us we don’t correct them but when we’re talking about each other we use partner?”   
“Sounds good. People can draw whatever conclusion they want then,”   
Ben leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, “Do you think you’ll ever tell any of the rest of the gang?”   
You looked down, drew your finger through a drop of spilt coffee, “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably one day, but not yet.”   
“I think they’d be chill about if you did. And I’d back you up. But I’m not trying to rush you or anything!”   
“I know and you’re probably right about them being chill but It’s still kind of nerve-wracking. The idea of having to explain to them all what aromanticism is sounds like a lot and honestly, I’m fine with it just being you that knows right now. Okay so, it looks like we’re going ahead with this. Was there anything on your list you wanted to discuss?”   
“Oh, umm,” Ben looked down at his paper and chuckled, “Honestly, I kind of assumed I’d have to do more to convince you we could make it work so most of what I have is reasons I think we’d be good partners. I do have one thing which I think I can see on your sheet too. What’s the endgame here? Like future wise, where would this go? Because I assume it’s not like a regu\- traditional relationship where you date someone and one day marry them and start a family. So, what does it look like instead?”   
You inhaled deeply, “the million-dollar question. Um, from what I know about other QPRs they can look like a traditional relationship with marriage and kids and all that but I’m not going to pretend I’ve ever imagined a future that included marriage. Even as a little girl I never had a dream wedding or made my dolls get married or anything like that. And I remember shocking my friends when I was about fifteen by saying I didn’t plan on having kids. Even now I don’t love the idea of pregnancy. It’s just a little...I don’t know, offputting? But I have thought about being a mum, maybe adopting or fostering. Obviously that’s y’know a bit down the line, not something I’m thinking about super soon, but what about you?”   
“I guess I did assume I’d get married but mostly just because that’s what everyone does, I’d be fine with not doing the whole wedding thing as long as there was some sort of committed relationship I was part of. And kids…I would like to be a dad.”   
“I think you’d be a good one,”   
“So do I,” He smiled softly to himself, “In my head they are my kids, biologically, but I’ve never really considered adopting or fostering. Probably because no one ever really talked about them as options.”   
“I’m not ruling getting pregnant out entirely, there are good things about it and I guess as an abstract concept I can see why women do go through with it. And with like C-sections and stuff I suppose that makes it seem easier, less terrifying...marginally. Also having a partner to go through it with. But mostly when I have imagined myself with kids that’s not how it’s happened. There is always surrogacy to consider too. Not that we have to decide right now.”   
“It’s something to think about though. Especially since we’ll both be in our 30s within a few years. And if we are going to be exclusive, which it sounds like we’re both leaning towards, then family stuff is something we need to account for because it is something I want and if you can’t see it happening then maybe being exclusive isn’t going to work.”   
“This might be a good time to talk about the third list I made.”   
“What is it?”   
“It’s a Want, Will, Won’t list. Three columns. The first is things I would ideally want from a queerplatonic partner, what I’ve imagined a QPR would include. The second is things that I would be willing to do if they were things you needed from a partner, things I’m willing to compromise on. And the third is stuff that I won’t do or that won’t work for me. I kept it fairly general and mostly about actions that might have romantic connotations, a couple of kink things because making you blush is fun, but I did put kids in the middle column. I think I could get through life without having kids and be happy, but I also think I could be happy with them. Maybe the reason I never really considered having my own was because I could never imagine having someone I’d want to do that with.”   
“But you would with me?”   
You thought about it for a second but you didn’t need longer than that, “Yeah, I would. So if it’s something you definitely want then I’m happy to talk about it more when we’re closer to actually wanting them. And I mean, there’s always the possibility that you might meet someone else and fall in love with them and want to have kids with them and that would be fine too. Like I said, I think if I never had kids I’d be okay with that. I kind of made my peace with that years ago.”   
“Sure, that’s a possibility. But I think it’s more likely that I’ll fall madly in love with you instead. In a totally respectful way that’s mindful of your boundaries.”   
“You don’t have to keep proving that you understand I’m aro,” you laughed, “Just the fact that we’re having this convo and that you’re making an effort to change the way you speak about romantic relationships is proof enough. And I’ve known you long enough now to know you wouldn’t try to force me into something I’m not comfortable with.”   
“And you have no problems calling me out,”   
“Exactly. So do you wanna know what else is in my columns?”   
“Actually, before that, maybe I could have ten minutes to come up with my own and then we can compare them more easily.”   
“Go nuts,” you laughed, “I’ll find something to keep me busy, just give me a shout when you’re done.”    
Ben nodded and flipped his sheet of hastily written ideas over, drawing three slightly wobbly lines down the page. You tried not to smile too much as you collected the cups and plates you’d been using and took them to the kitchen. 

It only took about half a minute to load the few dishes into Ben’s dishwasher which left you with time to kill until Ben was ready to continue the conversation. It was going well, you thought as you headed towards the TV figuring you could get in some practice on any of the games Ben usually beat you at, not necessarily an easy conversation by virtue of how in depth you were getting and how much there was to consider, but there was a certain sort of ease to it. Easier than any of the relationships you’d been in before. They always felt off somehow, like a shirt that didn’t quite fit, but you wore anyway because you couldn’t see another option besides not wearing a shirt at all. But Ben fit. The longer you talked the more certain you became that this was a good idea. There was a noise from the room behind you, the scrape of a chair and a soft curse, and a few seconds later the sharp smell of nicotine smoke told you Ben had lit up. You could practically hear him say it was to help him think, and the thought made you smile. You stopped heading towards the lounge and instead turned back to the door you’d just passed. Ben’s room. The door was already ajar, a quick poke with your foot sent it swinging slowly open, a drawn-out creak accompanying it. He wouldn’t mind. It wasn’t like you’d never been in there before. Without so much as a glance back towards Ben you stepped through the doorway and over to his bed, bouncing a little as you sat heavily on the end of it and made yourself comfortable. He’d at least tidied up a little, not quite as much clutter over his desk and bedside cabinet and top of his draws as there usually was. The faint smell of sweat meant there was probably some gym clothes waiting to be washed but he’d put them in the clothes hamper rather than leaving them in a pile on the floor as you’d seen him do before. A wave of happiness hit you as you looked around at what he did have on display. Signs of you everywhere. A dogeared, worn out copy of your favourite book, leant to him under the proviso he text you his thoughts as he read, lay on his pillow where he’d put it down earlier. You lay back and picked up where he’d marked his place, able to tell which bit he was up to after a quick scan down one page. You could have kept reading quite happily except that something caught your eye, propped up on his desk. Rolling out of the bed you abandoned the book to get a closer look. A framed photo, one of only a couple. Like most people nowadays the majority of his photos were stored in the cloud or on one of his devices. But he’d printed that one out, on proper photo paper, and found a frame for it. You picked it up and laughed at the memory, both of you drenched in water, your head leaning on his shoulder. There were others in the background, people who’d been at the barbeque with you. They’d all joined in when they realised the two of you had been fooling around with the camera but this was the one Ben put on display. And then beside it, blu-tacked to the wall, a slightly torn sheet of printer paper with a truly terrible drawing of a lion on it. A child could have done better, though you supposed you should get some credit considering how much you’d drunk the night you drew it and presented it to Ben as a gift. You couldn’t for the life of you remember why you’d gone with a lion. Maybe something to do with his tattoo? You almost couldn’t believe he still had it. But he’d promised he’d keep it and Ben was good at keeping his promises. On his bookshelf was the lucky cat figurine you’d bought him in China Town and a pair of fake sunglasses in the shape of beer bottles you’d picked out as a joke. Thinking about it, your room was in a similar state, decorated with trinkets and gifts Ben had given you over the years. It made the smile hard to shake and you ended up sitting back down on the end of his bed, almost overwhelmed by how happy you were and how much you loved him.    
“So this is where you got to. Are you alright?”   
“Never better.”   
“I’m done. I think,” he sat down beside you, handing over the list you’d left behind. Sitting so close you could smell the light, sweet, coconutty fragrance of the hair pomade you’d bought him. The smell was what had convinced you to get it.    
“D’you want to compare them now?”   
“Might as well. The sooner we know what we’re doing the sooner we can do it. Not _it_. Well… _it_ too.”   
“I’m gonna hazard a guess that sex was the first thing you wrote down,”   
“Second. Emotional support was the first but I did copy that from you.”   
“Cheater,”   
“It would have come up anyway,”   
“So what else have you got?” You leaned back on one arm, watching Ben, trying not to smile too much.   
“I think our wants are quite similar. Emotional support, sex, fun slash laughter. I put down kissing and cuddling as well, and I said _other physical contact_ though I didn’t have anything specific in mind for those. I mean you know how I am.”   
“Yes I do Mr Let-Me-Play-With-Your-Hair,”   
“Shut up you like it.”   
“Shhh, that’s our secret. What else did you have?”   
“The only other thing was a date for events and someone to run lines with sometimes.”   
“I think I can do most of that. I also had kissing down on mine, but only sometimes. And help with daily tasks and stuff, y’know like cooking and doing the dishes and stuff like that. Especially if we decide to move in together eventually, I need someone who’ll share all of that stuff equally.”   
“I figured you’d have that. But with the kissing, why only sometimes?”   
“Kissing is kind of a weird area for me. I guess it depends on what sort of kiss. Like a cheek kiss is fine because that’s the sort of thing I do to be affectionate with my friends. But a forehead kiss feels like it leans too far into romance. And I like a full open mouth kiss with tongue but more chaste kisses on the lips can go either way I guess depending on the circumstances and my mood. Like, generally speaking, I like romance stuff when it doesn’t involve me – romcoms and soap operas and romance novels, all that sort of thing, I’m a big fan. And I can deal with some romance related stuff in my life. Even if it’s not something I feel like I need to do, there are things I’m happy to do to make a partner happy like,” you looked down at your list to read a few things off, “romantically coded gifts like flowers or whatever, and going on dates and terms of endearment or pet names, depending on what they are. But every so often I have days where I just feel really romance repulsed. Like I get squicked out by romance stuff and I can’t stand seeing it or feeling like I’m involved in it at all. I don’t know why, I don’t know what triggers those days and they aren’t all that frequent but yeah, there might be times when even a cheek kiss might be too much, y’know.”   
“Okay,”   
“Okay? You don’t think I sound totally insane?”   
“No, I think you sound like someone who knows what they need. And, if you let me know you’re feeling that way then I promise I’ll keep my distance or give you a 100% platonic hug or whatever it is you want. Is there anything that’s off limits all the time or is it all a case by case thing?”   
“Um, I’m not big on like clingy over texting. One of the guys I broke up with texted me like every two minutes and, not gonna lie, that’s what made me break it off. I think we text each other a good amount as is so I’m not super worried about that. More importantly, I don’t like all that eye gazing stuff or holding hands. I want my hands free to do things. And like, umm, that thing that happens in movies sometimes where the guy will leave lots of little kisses over the chick’s face saying he loves her between each one. Yeah that sort of thing is a big fat no.”   
“Noted. And that's all the time?”   
“Yes, all the time. At home, during sex, If we’re out in public. Especially in public. Actually I don’t really do any PDAs. If I am going to participate in romance coded actions then it’s in the privacy of my own home.”   
“That’s doable. I’m not huge on PDAs either,”   
“Says the man who got papped making out with his girlfriend outside a fucking Tesco,”   
“That wasn’t making out it was a small kiss and there was like no one else around.”   
“Except the photographer,”   
“Yeah well, we didn’t see him. Point is, I wouldn’t do that to you unless you asked. And in my middle column I basically just put down that I’d do whatever you needed to feel comfortable so,”   
“Not really how it’s meant to work but that’s very sweet. Is there anything off limits for you?”   
“I couldn’t think of anything off the top of my head. I guess just things like not being too handsy if we’re out at a work related event, nothing that could affect my job.”   
“Makes sense.”   
“So, is that it then?”   
“Umm I think so, yeah. We can always come back to this if we think of anything else.”   
“Well then, in that case, do you want to stay over tonight?”   
“Yeah, okay.”   
“Just to be clear that wasn’t a euphemism for sex, I literally just meant you staying here tonight. We’ll order something for dinner and dick around like normal.”   
“I figured as much. You didn’t raise your eyebrows or blush even a little so I knew it had to be completely innocent.”

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed like countless others had. Chilling out in front of the TV, playing video games, complaining about being bored to each other. It didn’t feel like anything had really changed, despite the long conversation about your relationship. He was the same old Ben, goofing around to make you laugh, beating you at Mario Kart. And when the food arrived you let him pick the veggies you didn’t like from your plate and accepted a bite from his fork without thinking. The main difference from other nights you’d spent at his was that you could kiss him now. The first time was while you were laying on the couch, half watching a movie but mostly just chatting. Ben had leant his head on your stomach and flung his arm over your waist, a little tentative until you said you were okay with it. He hummed softly as you ran your fingertips through his hair, relaxing against you and falling so quiet you thought he was nodding off. Suddenly he raised his head.   
“We didn’t do anything to mark the official beginning of our QPR.”   
“I don’t know, I thought the take out was pretty great,”   
“Our regular order? Really?”   
“What’d you have in mind then?”   
“I don’t know, a kiss? Seal the deal so to speak.”   
You giggled as his eyebrows predictably jumped further up his face, “Is that why you’ve been so quiet? Trying to think of a line to use on me? That’s tragic Benjamin.”   
“Shut up, can I kiss you or not?”   
“Yes, absolutely.   
Ben let go of you and pushed himself to sit up, “If I’d known you were going to be so enthusiastic I would have tried an hour ago when I first thought of the line,”   
“Tragic,” you muttered again, voice falling away as Ben shuffled closer. He held back for a moment, eyes darting to your lips as he licked his own. You closed your eyes as he leaned in, felt his lips meet yours a moment later. It was soft, your top lip caught between his. Oddly not at all odd, though a little awkward. You tilted your head at the same time he did, both choosing the same direction, noses bumping as you broke apart with a giggle.   
“Sorry,” Ben said, a pink blush staining his cheeks and ears, “kind of nervous,”   
“Why? It’s just me,”   
“Exactly. It’s you,” he brought a hand up to your cheek, leaned in for another try. It went smoother the second time, lips only just parted, noses brushing but not bumping. You peeked at him through your lashes, let your gaze linger when you saw his eyes were shut, taking in as many of his features as you could. You felt him sigh in pleasure, felt him relax into you and let your lips part more, drawing him in. You wondered briefly what he felt in that moment, whether kissing was different for him with his crush and his capacity for romantic feelings. And then you pushed the thoughts aside, focused on the physical sensations, how his mouth moved against yours, the way his tongue brushed over your lip as if waiting for permission. You hummed, deepened the kiss for him. 

His cheeks were even more flushed when you broke apart again but he was smiling.   
“If that’s how you always kiss maybe I’d let you lay one on me outside of Tesco too,”   
“Fuck off,” he pushed you away from him and laughed, “ruining a nice moment.” There was a beat as he let the laughter die and then, “you did like it though, right?”   
“Yes Ben, it was a very good kiss.”    
“Phew. Was worried you’d hate it and call the whole thing off,”    
“It’d take more than one bad kiss for that to happen,”    
“But it was definitely good?”   
“Someone’s got a praise kink,”   
“Oh my god,” Ben groaned and hid his face in his hands as you laughed, “I do not,”   
“That’s a shame because I was going to tell you it was a wonderful kiss and that you were such a _good boy_ to check I was okay with it first,”   
Ben groaned again, his voice muffled, “I hate you.”   
“Love you too Benny. But you’ll need a thicker skin if we’re actually going to fuck.”   
You saw two wide green eyes peer at you from between his fingers.   
“I don’t mean right this second. It’s getting late and I’m a little drained from figuring everything out today. But if you’re into it we can make out some more.”   
Ben slowly lowered his hands, “I am into it.”   
You chucked as you leaned in to kiss him again, letting him settle back against the arm of the couch so you could climb onto his lap. Which is where you stayed, sometimes with locked lips, sometimes just leaning against his chest as you watched what was on TV and talked. When he was a little more used to kissing you, and to your new dynamic, he tried to argue that the only reason he’d got so flustered when you’d mentioned kinks was because you were such good friends.    
“If it wasn’t you I wouldn’t have reacted at all,”   
“Oh really?”   
“Yes really. The idea of you knowing any of my kinks is kind of weird but in a way I can definitely get over because I do want to have sex with you.”   
“You realise you pretty much just admitted you do have a praise kink.”   
“No I didn’t,”   
“What other kinks should I know about? You into spanking? Or d’you like restraints? Oh you’re blushing I think that’s a yes. So do you prefer being tied up or doing the tying?” You laughed as Ben placed his hand over your mouth to stop you from saying anything more.   
“You’re so mean to me.”   
“You’re so easy to tease,” you laughed into his palm, trying to tug his hand away.   
“What was that? Couldn’t hear you,”   
You tried to repeat yourself though even more of your point was lost in another wave of giggles.   
“Still didn’t catch that. Something about wanting another kiss?”   
“Wanker,”   
“Definitely something about another kiss.”   
You were both still laughing as he pulled his hand away and once again caught your lips with his. 

When both of you were yawning more than not you decided to call it a night. Ben invited you to sleep in his bed, rather than the spare you usually took. You kicked off your jeans and unhooked your bra from under your shirt before slipping under the covers, Ben joining you a few minutes later in his flannel PJ pants.    
“How d’you want…” he began but you cut him off by pulling his arm over your stomach and wriggling back towards him. He got comfortable, pressed a small kiss to your shoulder, “I’m really glad we’re trying this,”   
“Me too,”   
“I love you, platonically.”   
You laughed softly, “Samesies.”    
Ben fell silent, his breathing slowly evening out as he held you. You took a little longer to drift off, mostly because you were used to falling asleep on your own. But Ben’s arms were comforting, his embrace warm and safe. It was nice knowing someone cared so much for you. You’d always known he cared of course, but this was proof and more than you could have imagined. In every past relationship you’d had, those quiet moments when you could hear the other person sleeping were the ones that hurt. You’d lay there wishing you were normal, wishing you could just be fucking normal and understand what it was they felt, knowing there was always going to be that disconnect between you. But there, in Ben’s bed, with his breath warm against the back of your neck and his palm heavy against your skin, you weren’t worried. He cared about your comfort, about your needs and your limits even if they didn’t exactly make sense to him. And fuck that was a nice feeling. To be so accepted and loved. Something you’d been convinced could never happen. Of course, it wasn’t always going to be easy, being in a QPR with an alloromantic man who had feelings for you. There was bound to be confusion and bumps in the road. Mistakes would be made, problems would arise. But you were content to ignore all of that for the moment and instead just be happy that you had Ben in your life. 

****

Ben was still beside you when you woke up though not spooning you anymore. His arm was still draped over you, still pulling your body towards his, but you were facing him now, a little space between your bodies. He was already awake, though clearly not alert, eyes groggy and blinking either trying to wake up or get another hour or so of sleep.    
“Mernin’” he mumbled, fingertips tracing along your side.   
You groaned and tried to pull the blankets up over your head.   
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you. I just farted,”   
You groaned again but let the blankets drop back to your chest, “Gross. What time is it?”   
“Uhh, 8.36” he said, rolling onto his back so he could reach his phone, “why?”   
“Just curious.”   
“Okay, cool. How’d you sleep?”   
“Really well, you?”   
“Like a fucking baby. You’re a good addition to my bed.”   
“Well I try,” you yawned, closing your eyes as you settled into the pillow again. You opened one eye as you felt Ben shift a little but maintain the distance, “You can cuddle me again if you want,”   
“I don’t have to,”   
“I can tell you want to and I don’t mind.”    
“Okay then,” You heard Ben inhale and hold his breath as he moved back in close to you. And then you realised why.   
“Oh!” you shifted your leg away from the length pressing against it.   
“Sorry. It’s the morning.”   
“No, no it’s fine, I just, I don’t know, forgot about every boyfriend I’ve ever woken up with. Surprised me is all,” you relaxed again as you laughed at yourself, Ben’s soft sleepy chuckles mixing with yours, “Do you want some help with it?”   
“Did I somehow wake up in a porn video? That was so unbelievably corny,”   
“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t a genuine offer.”   
“Well, if it was genuine,” Ben was grinning as he pulled you into a kiss, his hand falling from your side to your back and then slipping down to grab your arse. You couldn’t help but giggle again as he did so, the very concept of Ben, your Ben, feeling you up was enough to have you feeling a little foolish but add on to that the fact that neither of you seemed uncomfortable with it or wanted it to stop happening and the situation was downright hilarious. For a little while you contented yourselves with making out, hands lazily roaming over each other as you slowly woke up. In his hair, sliding down his chest, squeezing your breasts through your shirt, grabbing your hips. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw to your neck, making you sigh and hum and gasp. Without really registering when it happened you ended up straddling his lap, taking the chance to discard your shirt before leaning down again so your chests brushed as he kept kissing you. He groaned when you rocked against him, shifted his hand so he could trace his fingers over the inside of your thigh, your heartbeat jolting at the touch.   
“You’re really okay with this?” He asked softly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, collecting a string of saliva that had broken when he pulled away.   
In response you drew the tip of his thumb between your lips and hummed again. Just kissing the previous night had been good and you couldn’t deny you were curious about sex with Ben.   
“Fuck,” Ben breathed out, looking like he didn’t quite believe what was happening and somewhat reluctantly pulled his thumb away from you, “This might be the point of no return though. Don’t want you to regret anything.”   
“If sex is on both of our want lists then this will be the fastest way to determine if we’re compatible enough for an exclusive QPR to work.” You held his gaze for a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t going to argue and then pulled his hand back towards you, letting it slip even further into your mouth.   
“Okay, um, shit. I was going to say something and now I don’t remember what,”   
“You were about to take your pants off,”   
He chuckled at that, “Wasn’t it but okay. Two things though. One, I’m freeballing under there so you’re about to see my dick for the first time and I think we need some sort of build-up, a drum roll or something maybe. Because, not to brag or anything, but I think it’s a pretty nice dick, from what I can tell anyway, and honestly I’d just really like the moment to land properly. If you want to applaud or whatever I’d be fine with it but please no flash photography,”   
“Shut up and take your pants off,” you said, trying not to laugh as you batted his shoulder.   
“Wait, number two. And this is a real one. Don’t expect me to be able to last as long as I’m about to last every time we do this, assuming it happens again. It takes longer for me to finish when I’ve got morning wood than any other type of wood, don’t ask me why, I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s something all guys have but yeah. I can go like twice as long in the mornings.”   
“Filing that away for future reference… Okay, are you ready now? No more announcements to make?”   
“I’m good now,”    
You pushed yourself to your knees, letting the blankets fall behind you, exposing both of you to warmth of the sunlight that crept through the thin curtains and bathed the room in a soft glow. When he had enough space, Ben lifted his own hips and push his pyjamas down.   
“Oh wow Ben,”   
“Alright, no need for sarcasm. Just get your knickers off too.”   
“You mean I don’t get a drumroll?” you squealed as you were flipped onto your back, Ben hovering over you. He kissed you once, quickly, before sitting back and hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underpants, quickly adding them to the scattered clothes through he kept his eyes on your face.   
“I’m gonna look now. In a second. God I’m about to see you naked. Okay.” His eyes darted down but you didn’t notice. You were already completely fixated on him. You’d seen Ben topless before, the first day you met and then a hundred times since, and you’d even seen him in just his underwear a couple of times too, but somehow you’d never noticed the muscles that moved under his skin as he shifted his weight. Or you had but not with the luxury of time to take it all in. It was hard not to stare at the complete package, somehow equally hard and soft, in a way that made you want to touch him as much as possible. It was especially hard not to stare at the V-line and the trail of soft blond hair leading down. And then there was what it led to. You wouldn’t call yourself a dick expert but you’d seen your fair share and Ben’s was definitely on the nicer end of the spectrum. Pubes trimmed back, a respectable size, clean. You blinked and shifted your eyes back to his face but Ben was still distracted taking in every inch of you.    
“Almost done?” you asked softly, torn between enjoying being admired and feeling suddenly incredibly self-conscious.   
“Mmhmm,”    
“Ben,” you said, a little louder, unsure he’d actually heard you.   
“What?”   
“Is this a good reaction? Kinda feeling like I need to completely cover up again.”   
“No, I mean, yes, good reaction. Please don’t put your clothes back on. Ever.”   
“Only if you don’t either,”   
“Deal. We’ll stay here and never wear clothes ever again. I feel a little sorry for every delivery person who’ll have to bring us food but they’ll survive. All my movies can be shot at home from the waist up and you can find some way to work from here. It’s the perfect plan.”   
You laughed again, already feeling more comfortable now that the moment had passed, reaching up to pull him back down towards you “Are we going to actually have sex or do you just wanna keep planning a completely unrealistic future,”   
“Oh the sex definitely. When was the last time you hooked up with someone?”   
“I don’t know, a while ago but it’s not like I’m completely out of practice.” Ben looked confused so you elaborated, “Dildos.”    
“I may need to see a full demonstration of that one day soon.” He grinned, pulled his bottom lip into his mouth for a second, “But for now…”    
“Fuck,” was all you could think to say as Ben closed his lips around two of his fingers, pulling them free slowly and holding them up so you could see the morning light glinting off the saliva that coated them.    
“Let me know if something doesn’t feel good okay?” he said, leaning into your ear. You nodded, swallowing hard as his voice sent tingles down your spine, but it was nothing compared to the way you felt when he began nibbling your ear lobe, slowly bring his lips to the shell of your ear and then down your throat. He drove the image of his shiny wet fingers from your mind, surprising you as they rubbed over your bare pussy, up to your clit and back down again. You were already turned on but his fingers worked with such intent that it didn’t take long for him to be able to comfortably slide one into you, almost to the knuckle. You swore again.    
“That’s right, Y/N. Want to get you nice and ready for my cock.”   
You just panted, nodded, whined when he slowly added a second finger. He was careful with you. Careful to go as slow as you needed, careful to make you feel good. And careful to not overstep any of the boundaries you’d agreed upon. He kissed you repeatedly, firm with plenty of tongue, or else biting on your lip just enough to make you whine. It left you breathless and dizzy, but it was grounding too, keeping you out of your own head as he shifted his fingers in you, added another, shifted them again.   
“Think you’re ready for me?” he asked, slowly pulling his three fingers from you   
“Yes, fuck, so ready Ben,”   
“Do you want to be on top or are you good like this?”   
“Ben I swear to god. Just put it in me,”   
“You get desperate fast, filing that away for future reference.”   
“Ugh, c’mon Ben,” you tried to grab his hand to pull him closer, but he stopped you, took hold of your wrist, laughing.   
“Wait, still filing...Jesus,” He gasped as you wrapped your other hand around his cock, his hips bucking forward slightly, “Okay, you’ve made your point, you can stop now.”   
You chuckled as you released him and he replaced your hand with his own, his other grasping your thigh as he eased into you.   
“Fuck, there you go.” He groaned through gritted teeth, drawing back before sinking into you again. He went slow, adjusting, making sure you felt every inch. You tilted your head back as you struggled to breath normally, made all the more hard when he reattached his mouth to your neck in an effort to make you moan. When he succeeded you felt him laugh.   
“What?”   
“Nothing. Think you can handle more?”   
“Please,”   
He paused for a moment, shifted the position of your leg so your knee hooked over his shoulder. The change let him reach even deeper and he had no trouble making you moan again as he picked up the pace, settling into a steady rhythm. You grabbed onto his bicep to anchor yourself, sliding your other hand down to palm your breast. Ben made a noise deep in his throat, tightened his grip on you as you continued the path down and brought your fingers to your clit.    
“H-how close are you?” he panted, slowing the roll of his hips.   
“Getting there, don’t slow down,”   
“’m not, just…” whatever he said next was muffled by the crook of your neck but you didn’t have the chance to question him before he gave a more forceful thrust and fell into the faster rhythm once again.    
“God, yeah, like that,”   
Ben grunted a response but kept going, his breath hot against your neck as you tried to rub your clit in time with him. The closer you got the more he encouraged you, squeezing your thigh, lavishing wet kisses and small bites along your neck and wherever else he could reach without disrupting the pace you needed.    
“Let me feel you cum Y/N,”    
“Almost,”   
“C’mon,”   
“Alm-ost,”   
“That’s right, you’re s-so close,”   
You nodded, pressed as hard as you could against your clit, desperate to fall over the edge.    
Ben swore as you finally came, pulsing around him, releasing a broken moan as you jolted and writhed beneath him.    
“There you go, so fucking tight oh my god,” Ben babbled as he carefully slowed down and then stilled completely, “How was that?”   
“Ohmygod,”   
“Breathe Y/N,” he chuckled, though he sounded pretty breathless himself.   
You nodded, pushed your hair back from your face, “Are you still…”   
“Hard? Yeah,”    
“I was gonna say in me but good to know,”   
“Oh, right, I can pull out if you want,”   
“No, no it’s fine. I assume you’ve got another round in you?”   
“Yup, you good?”   
“Give me a little longer,” 

Ben caught your lips again, a little messily, making you groan as his cock shifted.   
“Sorry,”   
“Don’t be, feels so good,”   
He grinned and pushed himself up a bit higher, “You’ve got no idea what an ego boost that is,”   
“Shut up and fuck me,”   
“God you’re demanding when you’re horny,”   
“Get used to-oh fuck – to it,” you stumbled over your words as Ben sat further back on his knees, his hands falling straight to your hips to pull you closer, leaving just your upper back and head resting against the mattress.    
“You good?”   
“Mmhmm,” the hum of agreement was drawn out into a moan as Ben gave a shallow thrust, testing the waters. He must have liked what he heard because he did it again a few seconds later, driving deeper. You tightened your legs on either side of him, the only thing you could think to do besides tug at your hair. Your second climax approached faster. When you made to drop your fingers to your clit Ben stopped you. You whined, not sure you’d be able to finish otherwise but he told you to relax.   
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you there,”   
You nodded, let Ben lead. Contented yourself with pinching and flicking your nipples instead. But you had nothing to worry about, Ben made sure it was worthwhile. Whatever spot he was hitting worked, had you moaning and clenching around him. He didn’t touch your clit until he knew you were close, carefully shifting his arm underneath you so he could move the other while keeping you in place. The first circle around your clit was enough to undo you but he didn’t stop until you whimpered, pleasure turning to overstimulation, and pushed his hand away. He traced his fingers softly over your thighs as you came down, hissing every so often as you were hit by an aftershock that made you tighten on him again. Once you’d sufficiently calmed down he warned you he was going to pull out, apologising as you inhaled sharply.    
“You didn’t finish?”   
“Told you I last longer first thing in the morning.”   
“I’d say let’s go for round three but I don’t know I’d survive. I could wank you off instead?”   
“Yeah, go on then,”   
You grinned as you sat up, despite feeling a little stiff and sore, and wrapped your hand around Ben’s cock. It was already slick from your arousal.    
Ben dropped his head back, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly pumped your fist over him.   
“Least I can do since you were so good to me just now.” You sped your strokes up a little, “Feel good Benny?”   
“Mmhmm,”   
“Probably not quite as nice as my pussy though. Kind of wish I could take you again after how well you filled me. Felt so good,”   
He made a small whiny sound, bucked his hips towards you.   
You twisted your wrist, picked up speed, “Felt so good being stretched out on your big dick. The way you pounded me so deep. God you fucked me so good Ben. All I’m missing is your cum. Be a good boy and cum all over me,”   
Ben bit his lip and groaned.   
“Please Ben. You’ve been so so good to me. Gonna keep being good and let me see you cum?”   
“Yes, yes,”   
“That’s right. Almost there, c’mon, right on my tits.”   
“Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck,” Ben gasped as ropes of cum hit your chest and stomach, your hand continuing to work over him.    
“Good boy,” you cooed, stroking Ben’s cheek as he slumped forward with his eyes shut, “Guess I was right about that praise kink.”   
“Jesus, woman.”   
You giggled and examined the mess he’d made, “Not bad aim. You got something I can clean up with?”   
“Tissues in the top draw,” Ben indicated the draw with his thumb as he collapsed back against his pillow, “If you give me a minute I can get you a proper wash cloth,”   
“Tissues’ll do for now. Think I’m ready to sleep again after that.”   
“Mmm, yeah,”   
“Hey, before you nod off. How does this all feel for you?”   
“Very satisfying.”    
“Yeah but generally, not just the sex,” you dropped the used tissues to the floor and pulled the sheets back over the both of you, settling down facing Ben.   
“I’m really happy,”   
“Yeah? You still want to do this, even after sleeping with me?   
“Of course. Y/N, all I want is to make you happy and so far I think I’m doing pretty well,”   
“You are. I knew it couldn’t be completely awful with you but it’s really really good.”   
“So you’re on board the QPR train?”   
“I think we both need to be mindful that it might take a little to fully find out feet,”   
“I know that,”   
“Just bear with me for a second because I need to know we’re both aware of potential challenges. Limits we’ve talked about might change as we work it out further and you might realise you need something more traditionally romantic to be happy or –”   
“Y/N, I know.” Ben propped himself up on an elbow, ran his palm along your exposed arm, “I know it won’t be easy all the time but right now I am telling you it feels good. And yeah it’s early days but that sex just now? Falling asleep with you last night? It felt right. Everything about this feels right. I’m not going to bail anytime soon.”   
You nodded, scooted closer to him, “Me too.”   
Ben smiled softly and kissed you, “I love you, platonically.”   
“Samsies.” 


	2. Pet Names, Double Dates and Other Fiascos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's (nearly) all fun and games until someone assumes your relationship is romantic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Arospec Awareness Week! I talked about maybe writing a second aro!reader fic over on tumblr and ended up writing this. Very much inspired by a suggestion someone sent me because I couldn't think of a plot I liked lmao though I did twist the idea a little.

The day had started off well. You woke with Ben tucked up under your arm, his legs curled up towards his chest since you’d stole the covers as you’d slept. Your face was pressed against the back of his neck and you felt him shift as you sighed sleepily and tried to keep from waking. Squeezing your eyes shut and pretending you hadn’t stirred must have worked because the next thing you knew was waking up to an empty bed and tinkly tapping sounds from somewhere else in the apartment. Groggily you shuffled out from the inviting comfort of the mattress, stretched, and pulled down the hem of the shirt you’d slept in to better cover your otherwise bare thighs before following the noises. You found Ben, still in his pyjamas (well, his boxer briefs) in the kitchen, dropping a couple of toasted waffles onto a plate, humming to himself.  
“That for me?” you asked, stifling a yawn.  
“It can be,” he said, passing the plate to you with a quick kiss on your cheek, “There’s some cut up fruit and the maple syrup out on the coffee table and there’s coffee brewing over there,”  
“Thanks Benny,”  
“You’re welcome, Puddin’,”  
“Puddin’?”  
“I thought it was cute,”  
“Very cute.” You laughed as you reached for your coffee, unable to help but smile as you left the room. The first few months of your partnership had taken some adjusting and one thing Ben had decided he would do to make you both feel more at home with the dynamic was to come up with some non-romantic based terms of endearment for you. You’d vetoed things like baby and honey straight away, all of them a little too heavily skewed towards romance, or just reminders of past relationships you’d tried to force yourself into, for you to enjoy them. But, as Ben had said, he liked a good pet name, and he’d seemingly been determined to prove as much, constantly coming up with new things to call you. You, never really one for pet names anyway, mostly stuck with Benny or Benjamin if the situation called for something longer but you had a few other go-tos – things like Pet and Blondie as signs of affection, or Handsome and Tiger when you wanted to make him blush.

A few minutes later Ben joined you on the couch, placing his coffee down beside yours, almost spilling it as he watched the news story that was playing.  
“Remember we’ve got that double date with Jill and Martin this afternoon,” you said, the memory only just coming to you yourself.  
“Yeah, what time was that?”  
“Hang on, I’ll check the chat.” You scrolled through the messages on your phone with one hand while you ate with the other, “uhhh right, yeah, meeting at the bowling alley at 1.30.”  
“Bowling? Good, better than another shitty movie,”  
You laughed, “hey the last one they picked wasn’t too bad.”  
“Yeah I know, just not in the mood for it since I’ve been on set all week. I know if I went to the cinema now I’d just get distracted thinking about all the behind the scenes stuff which isn’t ideal for becoming invested in the story. Plus they’re always choosing romcoms, doesn’t that get annoying for you?”  
“Not really,” you shrugged, “I mean, do I sometimes wish they’d branch out? Sure. But I enjoy romance in fiction I just don’t need it in my real life. Don’t get me wrong though, very happy to do something different this time.”  
“How long d’you think we’ll be out?”  
You shrugged, “A few hours maybe?”  
“We should pop to the shop on the way back then. You need milk and we could get something nice for dinner.”  
“Sounds good. Does that mean you’re staying over again tonight?”  
“I was planning to, yeah. Barely saw you last week so I was hoping to spend all weekend with you to make up for it.”  
“Bet you regret agreeing to go out with them now,”  
“Kinda. S’pose it’s too late to cancel though,”  
“Nah you still could but you know they’ll get stroppy about it and we’ll have to go out with them next week. They don’t have any other couple friends since Neil and Percy split and Bianca took her fella overseas.”  
“Yeah, wasn’t seriously suggesting it.”  
“What would the plan have been if we did cancel?”  
Ben chewed a mouthful of fruit thoughtfully, “you, me, your bed. No need to be too quiet since Sophie’s still out,” he glanced at your roommate’s bedroom door, his eyes swinging back to you as he continued, “Or y’know, we could do a puzzle and listen to music all day, have a cat nap after lunch, whatever.”  
“You’re cute when you’re being all lazy,”  
“There would be nothing lazy about it thank you very much,”  
“Cat naps aren’t lazy?”  
“You know that’s not the part I was talking about,”  
“It wasn’t? Then what won’t be lazy,” you tried to hold back a giggle in the middle of your faux confusion but broke when Ben blew a raspberry at you in response.

Nothing more was said about cancelling as you finished your breakfast, though truthfully you probably wouldn’t have minded if Ben had cried off sick and rescheduled the double date. But you both decided that Sunday would be a day for just the two of you to make up for having to spend Saturday afternoon with others. Instead, you spoke of the week just passed and commented on the news still playing on the TV. When you were finished (Ben using the last corner of one of his waffles to swipe the remnant syrup from his plate) you stood and stacked the sticky dishes in your arms. Ben collected the coffee cups and a few other assorted dishes from the previous night, leading the way towards the kitchen and the dishwasher. He loaded his small collection onto the shelves before turning to grab the top plate from the pile you held. A noise of disgust rose from his throat as you held the plate out and he miscalculated the trajectory, his palm landing in a puddle of syrup and fruit juice. You were torn between laughing at his expression and taking the opportunity to toy with him a little but, always ready to tease him, your desire to see him blush won out. Trying not to smile too much, you reached forward and wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his palm closer so you could lick the sweet syrup from his skin. Predictably his cheeks turned pink and he pulled his lip between his teeth as you let him go with a laugh.  
“Bet you’re really wishing we didn’t have to go out now, huh Tiger?”  
Ben didn’t respond but he did react, his eyes locked on you as he swiped his fingers along the same plate and held them out in offering.  
Not quite sure where things were heading but very keen on finding out, you leaned forward and let your lips part slightly. He took the action for what it was, an invitation, and trailed his fingertips across your lower lip before slipping them between the two. He watched closely as you sucked his fingers deeper, using your tongue to lick up the sweet residue. There was still an element of novelty with this aspect of your partnership. Still part of you that was intensely aware that it was _Ben’s_ fingers in your mouth. There wasn’t any hesitation though, hadn’t been since that first time when you’d both had to psych yourselves up to actually look at each other naked. But there was a part of your brain that was almost surprised when you found yourselves at the edge of a sexual situation. You suspected he was similarly discombobulated by how easy it was for you to end up there, how frequently playful teasing and friendly jokes turned into hands grasping at bed sheets and breathless moans against sweat-slick skin. He pulled his fingers free from your lips, unwilling or perhaps unable to shift his gaze away from the thin string of saliva that connected them like some kind of erotic spider web that you were both already caught in. You waited to see what he’d do next, feeling your heart race in the pregnant pause so full of potential. And then he moved. You laughed as he grabbed you around the waist and lifted you at the same moment he stepped towards the bench, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He kissed you too, hungrily, as if it were impossible to resist. You’d looked down at him and suddenly been pulled towards each other, lips meeting with all the force and attraction of a magnetic field. Usually, he would have had a hand against the back of your head or your jaw but carrying you meant both his hands were already occupied so instead you substituted your own, tangling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him from pulling away too far. As soon as you were safely positioned on the edge of the bench though his hands were free to fall elsewhere. One pressed against the small of your back as the other squeezed your thigh, encouraging you to keep your legs spread. Not that you could have closed them with Ben standing between them and not that the thought had even crossed your mind.

If you’d had all day Ben probably would have taken his time with you. Despite what he’d said earlier, you’d discovered Ben had a soft spot for slow and sensual intimacy. Making out that gradually built to passionate kiss-filled sex, foreplay that included soft caresses and whispered praise, anything that let him explore your body in intricate detail with his hands and lips. You’d been with guys like that before and had hated their insistence on linking hands and kissing you slowly. Those relationships never lasted long but with Ben it felt different, it felt good. Maybe it was because he knew you weren’t on board with overtly romantic acts and respected those boundaries you’d talked about so you never felt as if he were pushing you into a roll you didn’t enjoy. Or maybe he was just a better lover than they had been. Either way, it came to same result. You still preferred something less gentle and more energetic, though you felt you better understood the appeal of being held so close and kissed so tenderly. But with only a few hours before you’d have to start getting ready, Ben was inclined to speed things up a little. His hand quickly slipped up your thigh to press against your pussy, the cotton knickers you’d slept in the only thing keeping him from direct contact. You broke the kiss suddenly, the smacking sound loud in the small room, and dipped your head to press your lips to the notch between his clavicles. In response, Ben lifted his chin, exposing more of his throat to you and you took the chance to playfully nip at the junction where his neck and shoulder met.  
“Oi, no marks,” he said lwoly as you moved to kiss back up towards his jaw.  
“Afraid I’ll brand you with my initials?”  
“If you could legibly write your initials in hickeys I’d put up with whatever teasing the makeup ladies gave me,”  
“I’ll give it a crack then shall I?”  
Before you could so much as flick your tongue over his skin, Ben had raised a hand and placed it over your mouth to keep you from testing our your writing abilities, “Don’t think theres enough time, Sugar, but if you really want to I’ll let you try tonight, on my thigh where no one is likely to see it.”  
“Make it your arse and you’ve got a deal,” you said though it was a little muffled by his palm.  
“Fine,” he laughed, drawing his hand away, “But then I get to try it on you too,”  
You nodded, grinning, and then both fell into giggles, leaning against each other’s shoulders. This was what you’d hoped for when Ben had first approached you with the idea of being partners, what you’d been afraid you’d never actually find. Someone who would follow your tangential jokes even if it delayed sex. Someone you could be yourself with. You were distracted from the thought as Ben pressed his lips to your shoulder over the sleeve of your shirt.  
“Should I continue?” he asked, still smiling though softer, his fingertips lightly dancing over the crease of your thigh.  
“I’d be offended if you didn’t”  
“Can’t have that,” he leaned in to catch your lips once again, at the same time resuming stroking you over your panties so that you felt all the air leave your lungs in a rush. It felt good but you need more and so shifted your hips, trying to press yourself harder against his fingers. To get more leverage and better brace yourself as your centre of gravity changed, you dropped a hand behind you. Intuitively, Ben shifted the hand on your back higher and closer to your side to help keep you steady, the other still drawing lines along your clothed slit. You gasped as his thumb took up residence against your clit, rubbing it firmly so a visible damp patch began to form on your panties.

Ben grinned at you as your breath came harder and dragged his thumb back down away from your clit towards the leg of your underwear. Still watching your reactions, he twisted his fingers up under the material, gently tracing them along the same path they’d just followed only now he could feel your wetness directly.  
“I’ve got an idea,” he said, leaning close to your ear, as he circled your entrance with a fingertip before pressing it into you, “of how I’d like to fuck you right now. It might take a little flexibility on your part though. I mean, nothing too much, just getting your legs up on my shoulders.”  
Curious, and more than a little distracted by the addition of a second finger inside you, you nodded, “Sounds fun.”  
“Knew you’d say that. Just tell me if it’s too uncomfortable,”  
“Will do.” You leaned forward as Ben moved back a little, taking his fingers with him, giving you enough room to drop your hand to his crotch and grasp his stiff length through his undies, “Just get on with it.”  
“Puddin’ was too nice a nickname for you. Sugar too.” he gasped as you dragged your palm along his length and back again.  
“What’s the matter, Tiger?”  
“Maybe I should call you Tiger, if you’re going to keep grabbing my cock like that,”  
You laughed and let him go, leaning back on your palm again, “Tigress? Whatever, doesn’t matter. Are you going to fuck me or not?”  
“No I just wanted to get my dick hard for no reason,” he said sarcastically, poking his tongue out at you as he pushed his underwear down.  
“You’re such a –” you broke off with a sharp gasp as Ben tugged your underwear aside and pressed into you without warning, “dork.”  
Ben chucked and leaned in to kiss you quickly before readjusting your position a little by pulling you closer to him so your arse was right against the edge of the bench. Slowly he rolled his hips against you, pulling back and thrusting forward again, finding a rhythm that worked.  
You leaned back on both palms as Ben grabbed you by the waist, the other resting on your knee to keep it pressed against his side.  
“This feel alright?” he asked as he gave another thrust, hitting a spot deep inside you.  
“Mmhmm,” you nodded, able to feel yourself growing wetter with each stroke of his cock.  
“What about this?” Ben shifted first one of your legs and then the other to his shoulders, encouraging you to bend them at the knee. His hands moved to your sides, fingertips digging into your back as he pressed you even closer. The effect was that you felt as if you were almost folded in half but it wasn’t too uncomfortable. There was an almost weightless feeling to it and any slight awkwardness you felt with your chest meeting your thighs was a small price to pay for just how good Ben felt once again moving inside you.  
You tightened your fingers against the benchtop, wishing there was something you could grab onto as your whole body rocked with each of his thrusts, the position allowing him to penetrate you deeply, continuously brushing against a number of spots that sent electric spikes of pleasure through you.  
“Fuck,” was about all you could think to say.  
“That a good fuck?” Ben questioned, voice gruff with his exertions.  
“Yeah, yes, fuck, so good,”  
“So you like when I do this?”  
You let out a soft moan as he roughly fucked into you again, timing it just right.  
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he half laughed, turning his head to kiss your leg before leaning forward to catch your lips again. After that there wasn’t much room for talking. Ben, having assured himself that you were happy, speeded up his rhythm, clutching you tightly to keep your legs from slipping off his shoulders. His breathing became rougher, matching your own, as he drove into you, though he still kissed you as much as he could, panting against your lips, swallowing your moans and pushing whatever air he had into your lungs.

You could feel your orgasm bubbling up, like a pot of water on the verge of boiling, but knew Ben would reach his first, recognising his expression as the one he wore when he was trying to hold back from the edge.  
“Fu-ck you’re s-so tight,” he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut as he leaned his forehead against yours, “gonna have to pull out soon,”  
You could feel him pulling away and tightened your calves on either side of his neck in an effort to stop him, needing just a little more to reach your own release.  
“Not helping,” he groaned, suddenly unable to hold off any longer, “Shit. Y/N.”  
You whined as he stilled to shoot his release over your walls.  
“Jesus,” he said a little breathlessly, as he pulled out, your underwear slipping back over you, and rubbed his neck absentmindedly, “Didn’t expect that to finish me off. Did you…?”  
You shook your head, letting your leg slip to be caught in the crook of Ben’s arm.  
“Well let’s fix that, shall we,” he said, already letting you go to bend forward, his face right between your thighs.  
You felt a puff of his hot breath against you as he hooked his index finger into the crotch of your knickers, pulling it aside, and then his tongue was on you, lapping up your arousal and coming to rest against your clit. He set up camp there, focusing all his attention on the small nub. You let yourself drop back so you were holding yourself up on one elbow, your other hand on the back of Ben’s head, tugging on his hair as he drew a series of moans from you. With a particularly firm suck, you felt your cunt pulse and something warm and wet ran from you, dripping over the edge of the bench onto the cupboard door. You had an idea what it was so it surprised you when Ben released your clit to lick between your lips, catching it with his tongue and spreading it along your slit.  
“We taste good together,” he mumbled, going in to trace the same path over again, greedily licking up the mixture.  
You swore under your breath, feeling yourself right on the edge of your orgasm, unspeakably turned on by Ben lapping up the load he’d just left in you.  
Sensing how close you were he dragged his tongue over your clit again, quickly sliding two fingers into you to help you along. You whined his name as he pushed you over the edge, continuing to pump his fingers into you as he again sucked at your clit, not stopping until he was sure it had worked.  
“Thank you,” you said as he straightened up again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  
“You’re such a dork,” he laughed as he kissed you again, tracing his tongue over yours. The man clearly wanted you lightheaded from lack of air.  
“Shut up,” you pushed yourself to sit up straight again, expecting Ben to step away and let you hop down from the bench.  
He didn’t though, instead absentmindedly toying with the leg of your underwear as his gaze fell to your lips.  
“Seriously?”  
Ben shrugged, “Eating you out made me hard again. And,” he quickly ran his fingers along the edge of the bench, collecting some of the mess you’d left there, “I think it’s only fair you should taste us too,”  
If he’s said it less earnestly you might have batted his hand away and laughed off the suggestion but something about his tone made you grab his wrist to pull his fingers towards your mouth. He hadn’t been wrong, the mix of you both did taste pretty good, though you’d already got a hint of it as he’d kissed you.  
“Good girl,” he breathed out, eyes heavy with lust, “think you’re up for more?”  
“Can we move elsewhere? The edge of the counter is digging into me.”  
“Okay,” Ben began tugging your underwear down and kicked off his own before pulling your shirt over your head, making you laugh. He Helped you stand and then immediately pushed you to the floor.  
For a moment you thought he was suggesting you give him a blowjob and were about to question him but half a second later he was following you down, laying down and pulling you on top.  
“I meant like the bed or the couch at least,” you said somewhere between incredulity and amusement.  
“Too far,” he grunted, bucking his hips to encourage you to mount him properly, “need you now.”  
You rolled your eyes as you sank down onto his dick, “Do I actually get to cum this time or…?”  
“Only if you move,” Ben growled as he grasped your hips and pulled you down onto him, making you cry out at the unexpectedly sudden sensation of being filled. He let you ride him for a bit, alternating between squeezing your thigh as he rubbed his thumb over your clit and cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples as he encouraged you to fuck yourself on his cock faster. You kept to the same steady pace though, intending to drag it out a little, make him wait. But it wasn’t long before he got fed up with the deliberately slow pace you’d cultivated. Without warning you found yourself on your back, Ben grasping your thighs as he kneeled over you, pulling your hips up a little so he could fuck you the way he wanted. Your voice shook as you moaned and writhed in his shadow, your own fingers dancing over your clit to keep building your orgasm.  
“Isn’t that better?” he said roughly, laughing a little as you nodded your agreement, “Making me wish I had cancelled our plans. Could stay in your pussy all day.”  
You whimpered and rubbed your clit harder.  
“C’mon Pumpkin, so close aren’t ya,”  
You squeezed your eyes shut, moaning when you finally tipped over the edge. But that didn’t stop Ben. He waited until your orgasm had subsided and then pushed your legs wide and up into the air so he could lay directly on top of you as he continued to pound you. Your voice shook as a moan was pulled from your throat and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself once again being drawn towards release. There was something about his weight pressing down on you, his breath against your ear. Something about how close he seemed, almost panting as his hips stuttered in and out of the rhythm he was desperately trying to hold on to. He mouthed at your neck as you tilted your head to accommodate him, reaching a hand down to squeeze his arse cheek. You were sore from every other way he’d fucked you, tired from the two orgasms he’d already wrung from you, and yet the thought of stopping him, of ending the incredible pleasure you felt at his hands, was the furthest thing from your mind. A scream caught in your throat as he seemed to press you even harder into the floor, your legs shaking in the air as he grit his teeth and grunted with each harsh drive into you. And then he came, gasping against your throat as he felt you cum too, finally releasing the scream you’d been holding onto until the noise turned to breaths so ragged they felt like sobs.

Ben kissed your throat and then your jaw as he came back to earth, still laying on you.  
“How was that?” he asked softly when you’d remained quiet for a while.  
You drew in a deep breath, “Pum-Pumpkin?”  
“What?”  
“You called me fucking Pumpkin of all things, while trying to get me off?”  
“So?”  
“Jesus Ben,” you half-heartedly swatted at his side, “you’re lucky I was so close that it didn’t matter otherwise I might have laughed and completely lost the orgasm.”   
Ben joined in your laughter, the sensation of his shaking body on top of yours slightly odd but mostly quite comforting. Until he shifted his hips without thinking and made you wince.  
“Sorry,” he said, pressing his lips to yours again as if to kiss away the discomfort before he gingerly pulled out of you and sat back on his knees, “But you did cum that time, right?”  
“I think you know I did,” you sighed, already able to see what was coming, as you let your legs drop to the floor.  
“So wait, how many times exactly?”  
You sighed and shook your head slightly.  
“Because if my maths is right, I think we got you to three times. Once on the bench and twice on the floor. One plus two is three, yes?”  
“Yes that’s how basic addition works Ben,”  
“And who was it again that got you to three orgasms? Was it,” he pointed a finger as his one chest, “Moi?”  
“Alright asshole, you’re very impressive and a somewhat decent shag,”  
“I think you could be a little more grateful considering that performance. Might have been my best ever moves,”  
You pushed Ben in the middle of the chest, exaggeratedly rolling your eyes but, truthfully you were inclined to agree that it had been his best performance yet, at least in your experience.  
“Here let me help you,” he chuckled as you tried to stand, almost falling over as your legs shook. Quickly, Ben pushed himself to his feet and then offered you a hand up too, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you steady.  
“Thanks,”  
“I hope I haven’t made it too hard for you to walk. Wouldn’t want to throw off your bowling cos you were fucked so right.”  
“Jesus Christ,” you couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the time you had before you had to leave was spent tidying up the kitchen, cleaning up the evidence of the mornings activities in case your roommate got home before you, washing up and getting ready to go. Which is really when things started to go downhill. If you’d realised you might have told yourself to stay home, come up with a quick excuse to get out of it and just played video games with Ben for the rest of the day or something. But there was no way to know what was coming so you didn’t. You talked happily as you got into Ben’s car (which was already parked on the street), excited to see your friends and looking forward to the afternoon.

The double date itself was quite fun, although draining. There was always an element of playing pretend at these sorts of occasions. Not that you minded so much. It was either play up the romance of your relationship or have to explain what you were to everyone and a few hours of pretending Ben was your boyfriend was honestly much simpler. At least bowling was better than the cinema. The first time you’d gone on a double date to a movie you’d sat down beside Ben, the popcorn you were sharing balanced on the arm rest between you. Martin and Jill had raised their armrest and were virtually sitting on top of each other, hands entwined. Which would have been fine except Martin had leaned over and said, “you know these things move” and looked expectantly at you. Ben and you had shared a glance and then tried to say you were both fine with the space but they’d given you matching looks that said they thought you were being weird or prudish or judging their willingness to cuddle in public. So you’d relented and shifted the armrest so you could spend the next two hours sitting with Ben’s arm around your shoulders, both of you more tense about the situation than you ever would have been if you’d just been allowed to sit in your seats like normal. Things had improved a bit since then. Ben had told you that one night when you’d gone out to a bar together, Martin had pulled him aside as asked why he never kissed you properly. Ben had shrugged and said he didn’t like PDAs, that he didn’t want photos to spread or anything like that, especially since it was still so new, and Martin had accepted it. They began to see that your ways of being affectionate were quieter, stealing sips from each other’s drinks, a warm hand against a knee, dumb nicknames that made you both laugh. Even if Jill did sometimes still try to convince you that there was nothing wrong with snogging in the middle of a busy street. Nonetheless you never felt fully able to relax when it was just the four of you. Always conscious of how they saw you, always worried that they’d decide you weren’t being affectionate enough and would tell everyone else you were going through a rough patch which would lead to more scrutiny. While at the same time worrying that one of them would start asking how serious it was between you and Ben, were you thinking about the future? Could you see yourselves moving in together? Was he _the one_? And it took a lot of energy to constantly be alert about what you were saying, always careful to not accidentally give away the secret truth of the situation. Bowling was fun though and less pressure than other double dates you’d been on. You could get away with not holding hands or sitting on Ben’s lap since everyone was standing up frequently and it didn’t make sense to be on top of one another. You could share small pecks on the lips or else tight hugs to celebrate strikes. And Ben made sure to tease you for missed pins, just like he always had, with a few added silly nicknames. He called you his sweet little hotdog after a particularly bad gutter shot which had made you laugh so hard you choked on your drink, and made Jill give him a disapproving glance. He’d smoothed it over by letting her overhear him saying he loved you, whispering the _platonically_ just for you.

By the time Jill had been declared the winner of the game, you were ready to head home and spend a night forwarding Ben weird videos and dumb memes. Ready to be allowed to just exist without needing to be romantically linked to anyone. But it wasn’t quite to be. Martin made the suggestion that all of you should head to McDonalds for dinner and before you knew it you were standing in line, waiting for the kid at the cash register to serve you.  
You leaned your head on Ben’s shoulder as you stared at the menu, and vaguely wondered how someone working in a fast food joint could be so bright and bubbly. Right up until Ben nudged you and asked what you wanted.  
“Um, can I get a quarter pounder and a frozen coke, thanks.”  
“And?” Ben supplied.  
“And what?”  
“Y/N I know you want dessert, get dessert.”  
“And an Oreo McFlurry,” you smiled and bumped Ben’s shoulder with yours as he laughed and finished paying.  
“You guy’s make a cute couple,” the girl who’d served you said, eyes following the path of Ben’s gaze to you, still smiling. She seemed to realise what she’d said, her ears turning red, but Ben thanked her and added, “I think I have to agree,” as he squeezed your hip, before moving away so Jill and Martin could order. You’d smiled at her too but it wasn’t quite genuine.

It wasn’t that you weren’t used to it, people assuming you and Ben were in fact a couple. You were. One or two weeks after you’d first agreed to try out being queerplatonic partners, most of your friends had put two and two together and worked out that something was going on between you. Of course they didn’t know you were aromantic and they probably didn’t have any idea what a QPR was so they’d really added two and two and got five but you weren’t about to correct them. As you’d said to Ben, it was too much too soon to do that. Maybe if the QPR thing worked out long term, maybe then you could tell them. And besides, they weren’t exactly wrong anyway. They’d originally assumed you and Ben were just hooking up after Martin had dropped in to pick up something he’d left at Ben’s and had seen you spread out on Ben’s couch with sex hair and a rather large hickey on your neck and Ben’s sweater hanging off your shoulder. He’d asked Ben who’d just shrugged in response and said it wasn’t a big deal. You estimated it took about a minute and a half to reach everyone else. The next time you’d gone out as a group you’d felt them all watching you and Ben closely, trying to determine if Martin with bullshitting them all or not. They’d all decided it was just sex though. Until you were clearly still together a month later and they decided it had to be serious since Ben had never successfully fucked a girl for that long without catching feelings. That was when they started referring to you as boyfriend and girlfriend. That was also when the comments about how cute you were or how they’d always known you’d get together had first started. The first few times you’d heard it, it felt weird but you figured that was just because it was you and Ben and you were still working out how to be partners without the romance. You’d been in relationships before though and didn’t have any major objections to anything they said so you found it fairly easy to deal with and mostly you didn’t notice it anymore.

Except now it was bothering you. Something about the girl’s comment had rubbed you the wrong way. Which made you feel bad because she was just a kid with a shitty minimum wage job who didn’t know you from Adam. She had no idea. She was just trying to say something nice to a couple of strangers. You supposed your dislike of the comment probably had something to do with spending all afternoon putting on the romantic act for the benefit of your friends. Maybe even something about the sex from earlier. Probably just exhaustion from everything, a shorter fuse. It could even just be PMS though you’d have to check how far off your next period was to be sure. Whatever the reason it felt…not wrong exactly just off. You stayed quiet during most of the meal, aware you weren’t being great company and aware that Ben had realised something was wrong since he kept glancing at you when the other two weren’t looking.  
“Y/N,” Jill’s voice cut through your thoughts, “Still with us?”  
“Yeah,” you said, pulling a smile onto your face, “sorry, just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep well last night,”  
That statement was met by high pitched oohing noises and Martin jokily reprimanding Ben for keeping you up.  
You forced yourself to laugh with them, “Not like that you pervs. Ben was filming a night scene yesterday so didn’t actually get to mine until what,” you looked to Ben for confirmation, “One-thirty was it?”  
“Something like that. I don’t know I fell asleep almost as soon as I put my head down.”  
“Me, not so much,” you shrugged, “It’s all just catching up with me now.”  
They accepted that excuse without question and didn’t aim too many more comments in your direction, letting you finish your food without having to keep your mind on their conversation. And pretty soon you were hugging them goodbye and promising you’d organise the next date as Martin told Ben to get you home to bed before you fell asleep in your ice cream.

Ben waited until you were safely back inside your apartment before he asked if you were okay.  
“We were meant to get milk,” you sighed, trying to push away the annoyingly persistent discomfort.  
“I’ll go out later and get some. Or we can get Sophie to bring some back when she comes home. Are you okay though?” Unsure if this was a situation where you’d want space, Ben hovered at a respectful distance until you stepped in close and leaned your head against his chest.  
As soon as he knew you wanted him there he wrapped his arms tightly around you, “What’s wrong?”  
“Not sure. Think it all just got a bit much.”  
“How do you mean?”  
You shrugged as much as his embrace would allow and talked against his chest as you tried your best to explain how flat you felt, “I think the girl who served us was just like the straw that broke the camel’s back, y’know.”  
“Did me agreeing with her make things worse?”  
You shook your head, “Don’t think so. I knew you meant it in a different way to her. Besides, the other two were in earshot so there wasn’t much else you could say.”  
“You know that what everyone else thinks of us doesn’t change anything about what we have, right, or what we mean to each other. It doesn’t change who you are.”  
You didn’t mean to say it but the words had escaped before you could stop them, “Wouldn’t it be easier if it did though.”  
“But then you wouldn’t be you and I love you, platonically.”  
You smiled and nodded as you stepped back a little, though Ben’s arms wouldn’t let you go too far, “I know, thank you. And I’m fine, just having a bit of an off afternoon.”  
“Are you sure? Is there anything else I can do to help?”  
“No, you’ve been perfect.” You leaned up to give him a quick kiss, “And I know I’m being stupid about it. I knew what I was signing up for when I decided not to come out to them. Besides, being back home with you has definitely made me feel better already.”  
“Do you want a cuppa or anything?”  
“Nah, think I might just go lie down and read for bit. Decompress a little, y’know.”  
“Okay. Give me a shout if you want anything, yeah,” he pressed a kiss to your temple and give you an extra squeeze before he let you go.

Slowly you headed to your bedroom, kneeling down at your bookshelf and running your fingers along the spines until you found the one you wanted. That particular book had seen better days. It’s spine was cracked, the image on the cover peeling away from the cardboard underneath. More than one page had begun to fray around the edges like an ancient treasure map in a cartoon, with little triangles missing and the corners permanently creased where they’d been dog eared a hundred times. But as you settled into the bed, Ben’s pillow still smelling faintly of his hair pomade, you began to feel more yourself. Ben was right. What other people thought of your relationship didn’t matter. He was still your Ben, the same Ben who’s hoodie had been living in your cupboard for years now because he spent so much time at yours anyway it just made sense to keep a spare there. The same Ben who’d bought you your favourite pair of sunglasses when you’d left your old ones at home by accident. The same Ben who’d gradually been reading his way through your entire bookshelf rather than buying his own paperbacks. You had too much history there and too much love for each other for anyone else’s opinions to matter. And your partnership was good. It made you happy so it had to be good.

The time passed quickly as you read so when you looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw that a couple of hours had passed, you were a little taken aback.  
Ben poked his head round the corner and then stepped through the doorway when he saw you looked better. “Nice to see you smiling again,” he said softly as he crawled up beside you.  
Without thinking you lifted your arm so he could snuggle against you, his head on your chest.  
“What’re you reading?”  
“First Test by Tamora Pierce. First book in her Protector of the Small series.”  
“What’s it about?”  
“A girl training to become a knight. Gran bought it for me as a kid while we were on a holiday at the seaside.”  
Ben glanced at the worn pages, “Do you reread it a lot?”  
“Yeah a bit. The main character, Kel, is like the only aromantic character I know of so she’s kinda important to me.”  
“The main character’s aro?”  
“I mean, not explicitly. It was published in ’99 and the terminology to describe aro experiences didn’t really start being used until like the late 2000s and even then only in certain communities online. But Tamora Pierce did answer some questions on her website and said that as she was writing the series Kel became less and less interested in romance and sex so even though she didn’t have the words for it back then, she would consider Kel aro and probably ace too. And I mean, rereading them I definitely feel an aro sort of reaction to a lot of the romance stuff, even when Kel does start kissing boys and all that.”  
Ben leaned back to better see your face, “Will you read to me?”  
You leaned down to kiss him, unhurriedly, softly, letting your lips linger on his.  
“Is that a yes?”  
“That was a sorry I’ve been weird this evening kiss actually.”  
“Don’t worry about it,” he said simply, snuggling back down, his head once again resting on your chest and his arm thrown over your waist.  
You adjusted your grip on the book and began to read from where you’d left off, one hand running absentmindedly through his hair, both of you sighing softly as you relaxed into each other.


End file.
